Picking up guns instead of gifts

Saturday

Nov 30, 2013 at 12:01 AM

As the day's first sunlight glinted off the cars surrounding nearby big-box stores, 10-year-old Gwenyth Rhoten braided her blond hair into pigtails, grabbed her 20-gauge shotgun and went off to spend Black Friday with her father in an alfalfa field.

Alex Breitler

As the day's first sunlight glinted off the cars surrounding nearby big-box stores, 10-year-old Gwenyth Rhoten braided her blond hair into pigtails, grabbed her 20-gauge shotgun and went off to spend Black Friday with her father in an alfalfa field.

"I feel kind of nervous, but I'm really excited, too," Gwenyth said before marching onto the field for her first pheasant hunt. "I'd rather do this than go shopping."

To which, her proud father patted her on the shoulder and said: "That's my baby."

There were lots of proud papas - and also a few proud husbands and proud boyfriends - at Friday's hunt, which was specially for women and children, a tradition going back at least a decade but maybe longer, depending on whom you ask.

About 135 hunters lined up early outside the Stockton Sportsmen's Club trailer off misty McMullin Road south of Manteca, then divided into groups and, after a quick safety lesson, hit the fields. The club has a special agreement with landowners allowing hunting there.

Five hundred pheasants had been planted in the alfalfa earlier that morning, so this hunt was somewhat akin to fishermen targeting a trout farm.

But, of course, many of these hunters had never fired at an animal before, a fact that caused adults to pay extra attention to the direction in which the smallest young girls and boys were pointing these large and cumbersome weapons.

"It's on!" she replied, a tad exasperated (she's been hunting once before, and she knows what she's doing).

The hunters spread out in a long line and began walking into the vast field. Dogs went out ahead of them, rousing the sleepy pheasants from their hiding spots in the grass. Occasionally a bird would burst into the air, and if the kids could lift those heavy shotguns in time, a couple of gunshots would follow.

"If I shoot a bird, do I get to keep it?" Madisson's sister, 10-year-old Amanda, asked her uncle.

"Yeah, you get to keep it," he said.

"I'm going to hang mine up on the wall, like a deer," she said. "They say females are better shooters because they have more patience."

At the end of the row, 28-year-old Mercedes Evangeliste of Stockton carried a pink-camouflaged shotgun - a gift from her boyfriend, an avid hunter. She'd never killed anything before, but that changed in an instant once a Labrador retriever named Payton surprised a pheasant hardly 20 yards in front of Evangeliste.

One shot, and the bird went down.

A man handed her the stricken pheasant. "Yay!" she said, but then the bird twitched. "Is he still - alive?"

No regrets, Evangeliste quickly made clear. "We'll eat him, and his feathers will become part of a bouquet on our mantel. He's so pretty," she said. "This is fun - I'll probably get more into it when I get a little better at it."

Asked if she'd rather be at the mall, she answered sarcastically, "Yeah, right."

About 1.5 million women nationwide are hunters, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. That's roughly 1 out of every 9 hunters, the highest such ratio in at least 20 years.

Club member Richard Eckert, 71, said he's seen more women hunting and fishing and takes heart in the interest young people are showing, too, in an era dominated by electronic entertainment.

"I just enjoy watching these kids shoot," Eckert said. "This one girl, she shot way under one of those birds. But she got a shot, and she's thrilled to death."

An hour into the hunt, Gwenyth's cheeks were pink with excitement. One of the dogs had pointed on two birds lurking in the grass. Gwenyth knew exactly where they were and crept up until she was within close firing range.

The first bird popped up into the air, and the second scuttled off along the ground. Gwenyth fired twice, each shot missing.

You'd never have known she missed, though, based on her father's reaction.

"You did awesome! Wasn't that exciting?" Ryan Rhota said.

"Yeah!" she replied.

The elder Rhota, who lives in Escalon, started hunting only a few years ago after being introduced by a friend. Gwenyth's mother is a member of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, which spurred an interesting discussion about the prospects of their daughter someday accompanying her father on a hunt.

Mom and Dad made a deal: Gwenyth could try it once she was 10 years old.

Now that she's had a taste, don't be surprised if you find her out there again next Black Friday. Many of the girls her age might be likely to hang around the stores, but this year, at least, Gwenyth was aiming for a different Target.

"I'm so stoked for her," her father said. "I told her, if she gets to shoot at something, that's a success."